His Alone
by Kate Barancik
Summary: Desmond becomes the sole occupant of the hatch.


His Alone

Summery: Kelvin dies.

Rating: PG, some mild language.

Disclaimer: I don't own Lost. Or Desmond. mad face

"Kelvin?"

"Kelvin!"

Only darkness greeted Desmond as he looked down to the bed below his. He could not see if there was the familiar lump of his roommate. But there was no stirring from the bottom bunk at the sound of the four minute warning. But sometimes Kelvin could mask himself in the darkness, particularly when he wanted to sleep in. But it was then that Desmond remembered that Kelvin had been sick the night before.

"Fine, I'll do it, but you owe me, brother," said Desmond, who jumped down from the top bunk and landed on the floor with a soft thud. He made his way in the dark to the nearby Commodore computer. He felt his way across the keyboard to type in the code.

4-8-15-16-23-42. Execute.

Same routine every 108 minutes, like clockwork, literally. Vaguely Desmond wondered what time it was, really was. Time inside the bunker was different from the time outside. When he had first arrived on the island it had been daytime, but when Kelvin took him inside it was night. So it was probably daylight outside.

It was easy to hazard a guess that it was perhaps four in the afternoon outside, but more like four or five in the morning where he was. Yet, Desmond could not sleep. He had woken up an hour before and read one of the hundreds of books Kelvin had somehow acquired.

Usually if Desmond couldn't sleep and Kelvin could he would just exercise or play one man ping-pong. But this time he actually felt lethargic, it hit him as he sat in front of the computer screen. Everything was beginning to spin and he felt oddly lightheaded. He stood quickly, too quickly. What little light there was in the bunker began to grow dim and he struggled to get to the medicine cabinet. He must have forgotten to take his shot.

"Kelvin, could you-" but before he could even finish he fell to the floor and all that was left was silence and the dark.

Beep. Beep. Beep.

It was the four minute warning. But that was impossible, he had just pressed the button. Why was he on the floor? A soft light was now filtering through the shades of the window. For one moment of panic, Desmond could not remember what had happened. Soon, however, the memory floated back to him.

Desmond pushed himself off the floor and went to the computer. He pressed the numbers again, but hesitated before pressing "execute". Something had caught his attention from the corner of his eye. Kelvin's feet were lying spread eagle beside the computer.

Slowly, Desmond crept around too see Kelvin lying on his back wearing his pajamas. He looked like he was sleeping, but there was something unusual about his face. Almost like something was missing. With a creeping sense of fear Desmond realized that all the color was gone from his skin. It was pale and looked clammy.

"Shit, Kelvin," whispered Desmond as he knelt down next to his friend. A sinking piece of lead traveled down his his chest and settled around his navel, Kelvin was not moving. At all. His chest did not rise and fall, his eyes did not twitch under the lids as they always did when he was dreaming.

Desmond felt as though he were suddenly underwater. There was no sound, not even the beeping of the warning got through to him. He stood slowly, feeling the blood rushing to his brain, thousands of thoughts racing all at once. How long had Kelvin been there? Had he lay there since Desmond had awoken hours before?

Had Kelvin been on the floor, taking his last breath as Desmond laid on his bed, reading a book?

A louder alarm sounded and broke him out of his trance. He shuffled over to the keyboard and pressed "execute" as usual. For a moment he stood, running his hand through his hair. The dizziness was back, and he could not stop himself from falling to the hard floor next to the chair. He could not force himself to look at Kelvin, only to search his brain for any possible explanation.

Why had he not seen the body the first time he had gotten up to put in the numbers? Desmond struggled to think past the headache that was threatening to explode his head. Then he knew, it had been dark, too dark to hardly see anything. There were the few lights of the machines and the fake moonlight that came in from the window. That's why he hadn't seen him. He had been lying there, possibly still alive while Desmond had gone along with the usual routine.

Then he did something that he had not done in years; he cried. He just sat on the floor, hugging his knees and rocking. It was all his fault. He could have saved Kelvin, the medicine was just feet away. It should have been him, he should have died.

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It was getting dark outside and Desmond hated being outside in the dark. He had to be quick if he wanted to get inside before it got too late. He only had 95 more minutes before he would have to push the button again. He was outside in the wavering sunlight and he should have been happy, but slung over his groaning shoulder was the body of his roommate.

He had sat on the floor for hours, pushing in the code in a haze. For awhile he paced back and forth wondering if he was in some terrible dream that he wasn't waking up from. Then he just stood at Kelvin's feet, looking down at the corpse that was once his friend. Looking at his lifeless body Desmond decided to give him a proper Christian burial. Outside, in the ground.

So, here he was, digging with an old rusted shovel that, for some reason, had dried concrete smattered all over it. Desmond knew there were boar around and that they would dig up Kelvin's body should they sniff it out, but the ground was not as soft as it could be and the light was growing faint. He had only gotten about two feet into the ground, but decided that it would have to work.

He bent low to the body, but hesitated at grabbing it. For a split second he could have sworn the body had twitched. That perhaps the chest had hitched just slightly, maybe the eyeballs fluttered under their curtains. Desmond stared for what seemed to be hours, but saw no other movement, real or imaginary.

The darkness was beginning to grow around him like a fungus. There was a rustle in the nearby jungle plants. Desmond jumped erect and changed his focus to the area from which the sound had come. Again, there was nothing.

"Hello?" he asked hesitantly. It was almost completely dark now and an irregular fear was spreading in Desmond's chest. He lifted Kelvin by the arms and dragged him into the shallow grave. It was only when Kelvin was lying at rest that Desmond realized he still had on his Dharma jumpsuit. There was an idea suddenly in his head to remove it, but he realized that it was only fitting for Kelvin to be wearing it even in death. All Kelvin had ever been was a slave to the Dharma Initiative. Why should now be any different?

It was only when all the soil had been replaced that Desmond realized the full of what had just happened. Not only was a friend of his dead, he was now all alone. Like Kelvin had been before he had crashed on this island, before they were lost. And now Kelvin was dead and there was no replacement, might never be. He was alone and standing one the dirt that covered Kelvin's corpse.

This was it. He was alone. He sat at the counter looking around his bunker. His. His alone. And there was a silence that Desmond had not heard since he had been on his boat sailing the Pacific in the middle of the night during his solo race. For the second time that day, Desmond cried.

A/N: Okay, my first Lost fanfiction, so be nice please! From day one I had no clue where I was going with this story. Really it's just setting up and idea I have for a Desmond/Alex story. BTW, I really didn't want to be too specific about Kelvin's death, because I'm sure that we'll find out what happened to him. I had a feeling he might have died of the "sickness" so I put a little hint of that in there.


End file.
